What's in a Date?
by Ariel Princess of the Sea
Summary: Busy learning about how to be Atlantis' new King, Arthur only wants to do one thing: Go on a date with Mera.
1. Chapter 1

**PART ONE**

Arthur had put his foot down.

He was going to go up to the damn surface and finally drink his father under the table. He sure had more to drink about now than his old man did anyway. He hadn't been around to see the reunion of his parents, or the days afterwards when he didn't want to even _think_ about what they were doing. But Arthur needed a break. He needed a sense of normalcy that wasn't so normal to his life anymore. He wanted a beer, dammit. He wanted to relax.

His old man finally had the love of his life back while Arthur suffered an education of politics—a lifetime's worth—crammed into a few days. This was why Arthur hadn't wanted to be King from the start. He hadn't grown up in Atlantis like his brother, Orm, had. He didn't have the first clue as to how underwater kingdoms worked, let alone the _biggest_ underwater kingdom.

That's where Vulko came in to save his sorry ass. Sure, Vulko gave Arthur lessons when he was younger, telling him how he'd one day be King of Atlantis, but they never touched on all the small stuff that could somehow make or break his reign or the daily tasks a leader must perform to keep his kingdom running smoothly. Hell, he could definitely do without all the pomp and circumstance. He felt like a clown dressed up as a king.

And still, it could've been worse. Much worse. Because what brightens up a stuffy conference room with an old man breathing down your back quizzing you on military sanctions like a beautiful princess? Alright, Mera was mostly trying to help drill said military sanctions into his thick skull as well, but she was sure nicer to look at that Vulko.

When he said that being King would be fun, he pictured more ass kickings. More of him directly affecting Atlanteans for the better. Hell, even more partying that involved heavily flowing alcohol would be fun. That was before he realized that Atlantis didn't have any alcohol. Apparently they didn't _need it_ , so why would they _want_ it? Arthur could think of about a hundred and ten different reasons why. The one time he'd brought it up to Vulko, the older man just gave him a look that meant shut up and sit down. Arthur had let it slide.

But he never really let it go. It would certainly make long ass days learning Atlantean customs much more manageable. Arthur hadn't done anything notable yet as King, other than dethroning the last King and self-titled Ocean Master. He still snorted in derision at the lame name Orm had given himself to take control of the seven seas. It sounded like something a seven year old would come up with.

He'd told Mera and Vulko that he wanted to bridge the two worlds—the land and sea—so that the Atlanteans would learn that the surface wasn't all bad. The best way to do that would be through education. If they could start working with the surface governments to exchange knowledge and learning, maybe in a few years the Atlanteans and land-dwellers would feel more comfortable about coexisting. Though it was kind of hard to do that when ninety-five percent of the Atlantean population couldn't survive on land without a hydro-suit. They were still searching for a logical solution to that problem.

But honestly, through all of this, Arthur was tired and a little bit homesick. He missed the pubs he used to frequent, the people he used to see around Amnesty Bay—the same people that were probably still picking through the wreckage from the wave his brother had wrought upon them that night Mera had come to him for help. He should be helping them rebuild their lives, but instead he was learning about how to be the king of the kingdom that terrorized his home. The only consolation was that he wasn't ever going to let anything happen to the world he grew up in again. As a King, he now had that power. Or at least, it was a power he _would_ have if he ever figured out how to _be_ a King.

A sharp awareness glinted in Mera's sharp green eyes, her gaze tearing him apart and then putting him back together again in the span of moments. She sat across from him, her hair floating in the gentle currents that circulated through the palace. She was too keen—or Arthur was just too straightforward with his emotions—and she called to Vulko that they were done for the night.

Arthur ran a hand down his face, stroking his beard absently. "No, I'm fine," he insisted. The more they covered, the sooner they'd be done. He didn't know what time it was, but his body could tell that it was late. He'd been sitting in a chair too long, his lower back and neck muscles tight.

A sharp eyebrow rose to meet his stare. Mera didn't miss anything. "You're going to fall asleep in that chair if your attention strays any further away."

"I'm listening," Arthur mumbled halfheartedly.

She gave him an unconvinced look and he relented. "Fine, we'll call it a night."

"I will prepare the council for tomorrow's meetings, My King," Vulko bowed deeply.

Arthur stuck out his hand, trying to wave away the image of his childhood mentor bowing to him and calling him a king. "Please don't do that bowing crap. It makes me uncomfortable."

Vulko's eyes flashed and a smirk crossed his face before he bowed even lower. "Yes of course, _My King._ "

Arthur groaned at the jibe, which elicited a subtle laugh from Mera. When he shot her a look, she merely pretended not to notice him. She swam over to Vulko and took his hand in both of hers, thanking him.

"It's my pleasure, Princess," Vulko gave a last bow to Mera before leaving the room that Arthur had more recently started calling the torture room. She turned to him, an entertained glint in her eyes.

"I'm actually surprised at how willing you are to sit through these sessions," she commented.

"Nothing to do with willingness, everything to do with you making me."

"At least you'll listen to someone," she grinned softly, "even better that it's me."

Arthur rose to close the distance between them. "Never took you for a power hungry mermaid."

"Mermaid?" Her eyes rose to meet his, confusion mixed in her features.

"Nevermind," he shook his head, closing his arms around Mera's body and pulling her flush against his body. She came willingly, setting her head on his chest. She was so short that Arthur could rest his chin atop her fiery head; which is exactly what he did. They stood like that in the stillness for a while, Arthur's head emptying of everything he had to do and wanted to do for a few blissful minutes.

A pervading thought popped to the forefront of his mind. "How do you think I'm doing, you know, for a land dweller turned king?"

Mera pulled her head from Arthur's chest to meet his gaze. "I think you have the makings to become a great King. You've already proven that you can lead our people," she paused, as if to test her next words, "even if you can be an idiot sometimes."

Arthur's laugh rumbled deep in his chest, rising to meet Mera's self-satisfied smile. "I'm not sure that an idiot king will fare so well."

"If anyone other than me calls you an idiot, they'll have to answer to me." Her words were laced with an dark and dangerous promise.

Arthur grinned, planting a quick kiss to Mera's forehead before pulling back. "Wouldn't want to cross you."

"Then make sure you don't," she answered mischievously. Mera pulled the rest of the way out of his arms, assessing him at arms length before deciding, "you look exhausted. You should head to bed for the night."

He stared after her idly, a thought coming to his mind, one that sunk its hooks in him. Mera was halfway to the door before he stopped her. "Mera," he called to her. She looked back over her shoulder at him. "I want to take you to dinner."

Her eyebrows knitted together as she turned to face him fully. "We had dinner four hours ago, Arthur."

He shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. I mean up on land. Maybe tomorrow?"

Her head was still cocked in that adorable confused expression she held anytime he spoke of something in his world that she didn't fully understand. "Why on land?"

Arthur reached back to scratch the back of his neck. "Well, because that's how it's done up there. And it's an excuse to do something other than these ridiculously long training sessions."

Mera watched him, her eyes skeptical and curious. "If you wanted to see your mother, you could've just asked."

"That's not what this is about—well, I _would_ like to see my parents—but I want to show you more of the land I grew up in—without having to run for our lives in the process."

She must've seen the earnest in Arthur's words, because she nodded, "I suppose a trip to the surface wouldn't hurt. You've earned the break."

Arthur's eyes lit up, watching Mera agree. "Awesome. So then I'll pick you up tomorrow afternoon?"

That quizzical look was back. "Why would you pick me up? I don't need to be carried anywhere, Arthur."

Arthur shook his head. "I didn't mean it _literally._ Just that we would meet to head out together."

"Why wouldn't you just say that then?" She asked, chastising him.

"Just something we say on land," he explained.

Mera gave a small nod to the sentiment, and then before exiting, "you can 'pick me up' after our meeting with the palace guards tomorrow afternoon."

Arthur grinned despite Mera's obvious displeasure at using the saying. She was open to the possibility of learning, proof that Atlanteans and humans could coexist. "Sounds like a date."

She shot him a sharp look. "You know what tomorrow's date is, Arthur."

Instead of correcting her, he just nodded his head. "Right. See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Arthur."

"Goodnight, Mera."


	2. Chapter 2

**PART TWO**

Arthur had a hard time concentrating through his meetings. He felt like a giddy teenager before his first date, nervous and excited all at once. It didn't help that Mera sat across from him during every meeting, catching his eye and silently imploring him to focus in the way that she so often did; silently with a raised brow as if to say ' _are you listening? This is important.'_

The few feet of table that sat between them, keeping them apart, was strangely annoying. Why had Mera always placed herself across from him? She felt so far away, giving the airs that they were unattached. That assumption was far from the truth. He felt very _very_ attached to the woman who had come to him for help only months ago. And—idiot or not—she felt the same. He'd have liked to have her sitting next to him—if for no other reason than to seek her council easily. To have her nearby.

And yet, at the start of every meeting, she placed herself across the table from him. Out of his reach. It was a struggle to ever get her to sit on these meetings with him.

She had argued that she was merely an emissary of Xebel, and she had no business keeping an advisory position in his court, but that was his breaking point. He had declared early on in his reign that if she wasn't there to help him decipher the inner politics of ruling an underwater kingdom, he was out. After all, it only made sense that the people who dragged him into taking up his birthright would have to stick around to help him keep a kingdom together. He was more than willing to put a regent in charge, but Mera—and Vulko—hadn't even entertained the thought after his threat. Mera had quickly agreed to help Arthur in his transition. He wasn't able to get much more of a commitment than that. But he was working on it.

For now Mera sat across from him, torturing him with her distance.

Truly, his biggest regret thus far was that even though he saw Mera pretty much all day every day, they never got to just be together. There was always a damn table between them. He planned to rectify this. For both of their sanities. He didn't want Mera to just be an emissary or on his council or just help him _'transition'_. She meant more than that to him. She meant more to Atlantis than in the role she'd taken up as of recently.

As the day waged on, and evening crept closer and closer, Arthur became more and more restless. Mera noticed. Of course she noticed. It was hard to miss how Arthur's impatience radiated out of him as if he were a ticking time bomb, just waiting to go off.

At the end of their last meeting for the day, Arthur all but hopped out of his seat and offered a hand to Mera to follow him out. She'd sent an apologetic look to the senior guards at their meeting for their quick departure, but Arthur noted that she didn't hesitate to place her hand in his. Maybe she needed this just as much as he did.

The halls were a flurry of people going about their business, moving out of the way and bowing their heads when they noticed Arthur passing by, but while Arthur would normally give them a friendly smile or say a few words, he was on a mission. A mission to get out of Atlantis as quickly as possible.

Which is how they ended up in front of Mera's new ship from where she stashed it under the palace. While Arthur was completely up to just swimming up to the surface, there was no need to waste so much energy in doing so now. They had to get outside the borders of Atlantis, and to do so, they'd need a ship.

Mera's brand new ship had a sleek body like a shark. It had a dorsal and two pectoral fins on either side that would help steer and keep the aerodynamics tight enough for a good burst of speed. The frontal door that doubled as the viewing port opened from the bottom, flipping up just as Mera's old ship did. Well, before they crashed the old ship into molten lava. Really, it was all Orm's fault. Arthur was the good guy in all of this and gifted Mera a new one once he was crowned King.

Arthur swam over to the driver's side to get in.

"What are you doing?"

Arthur looked back to see Mera hoving before the ship, her hands tight on her hips. He gestured to the ship. "Getting inside?"

"I'm driving," she announced as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She came up beside him, angling her body to block the door to the ship.

He took the opportunity to shrink the space between them, a thread of water being the only barrier between their bodies. He dropped his voice low and sultry. "But I'm King."

She matched his tone, blinking her radiant eyes up at him. He was being pulled into her gravity, his lips slowly descending upon hers. She pulled back just as their lips almost touched.

"I'm still driving."

Arthur backed away in shock, the cocky smile gracing Mera's face making him chuckle. He should've known that if anyone could out-seduce the seducer, it would be Mera. "Shouldn't have even tried."

Mera flounced into her seat, watching as Arthur took up residence beside her. The window closed, sealing them in.

"No," she agreed, gearing up the ship, "you shouldn't have."

Just like the first time Mera had brought him to Atlantis, Arthur exited it much the same way; in awe of it all. He still couldn't believe there was so much light and _life_ in the city. It was overwhelming; for not only was it beautiful, but he was now responsible for all of it. Kind of a lot to put on one person's shoulders. He made to play it off as if it didn't bother him as much, but it was a pressure that he now carried daily.

Mera expertly maneuvered the ship in and out of traffic, using their special diplomatic pass to bypass security on the way out. Only when they were out of Atlantis' vicinity, did Mera really shift the ship into gear. Like a lightning bolt, it shot forward at turbo speed in the direction of Amnesty Bay.

Arthur had sent a note to his parents early that morning to warn them that they were coming by later, just so they didn't...interrupt anything. He hadn't heard from his mother since she went back to his father, so Arthur could only assume that they were happy and in love and making up for lost time. Honestly, he didn't blame his parents one bit. He'd grown up seeing the pain in his father's eyes any time they spoke of his mother. His father deserved happiness after everything that happened.

Mera seemed to guess where his mind had wandered off too. "Do you think Queen Atlanna is happy being on land for so long?"

Arthur turned his head to meet Mera's eyes. She was attentive to his moods, something he still didn't fully understand, but the question bubbled between them.

"Yeah," he responded. "I think she'd be anywhere my Dad is."

"Even on land," she prompted him.

"Even on land," he agreed.

Mera sighed. "I guess I could see the appeal. When we were in Italy, I only felt a little dehydrated, but I wasn't used to being on land for more than an hour or two before that. Atlanna has spent days and years at a time out of the water." She shook her head a little as if the thought was insane to comprehend.

"I thought the royal line were just as comfortable breathing air as they did water?" It was comfortable for him, at least. But he had the advantage of being half human.

"Breathing is comfortable yes, but when you get used to how the water holds you, cushions you, drags against you all your life, and then you go up to the surface and all you have is a measly breeze to hold you up, it's jolting."

Arthur's mouth tipped down, worry revolving in his gut. "If it's uncomfortable for you, and you don't want to go up there, I don't want to force you." And he meant it. He didn't ever want to make Mera do anything she didn't want to do.

"Don't worry," she told him a wry grin shaping her lips, "every time I'm on land it gets easier. I think I just need more practice."

"Then tonight, I get to be _your_ teacher."

Her bright smile was vibrant. "I'd love that."


	3. Chapter 3

**PART THREE**

Arthur usually used their lighthouse's dock as a way to get from ocean to land, and today was no exception. He shot out of the water a second before Mera did, landing on his toes on the open end of the dock with a splatter of water as he breathed air for the first time in a month. Mera landed gracefully next to him, taking in the scene before them.

It registered in Arthur's mind that she'd only ever seen his home from afar. Her eyes drifted over the simple white house, worn down by years of bad weather, the coal-colored roof that needed to be fixed in some places, all the way up to the connected lighthouse tower. Her eyes lingered on the former.

"It's lets boats know where shore is. Kind of like a warning and a reference all at once," he supplied.

"It's so tall."

"The light will reach farther out into the ocean that way."

"It's beautiful," she breathed, her eyes roaming over the two-story house to its cylindrical attachment.

Arthur shifted on his feet. "Yeah, well. It's home."

Mera looked over at him with a slight smile on her face, her eyes deepening into pools that Arthur could very well get lost in.

"Arthur!"

He shot out of his reverie as his name was called from the direction of the house. He looked up to see his mother, the Queen of Atlantis, waving at him from the top of the steps. She was wearing a simple cream sweater and trousers, her blonde hair snapping in the wind behind her. She looked so normal standing there, hands resting on the wooden railing.

His father came up behind his mother and wrapped his arms around her, both of them grinning down at him and Mera. For once, he felt overdressed. His hair was pulled back by a string, and he was still sporting his Atlantis gear. Trident and all. He couldn't very well leave the most powerful trident in the world just anywhere where anyone could find it. He wondered what his father thought of his new outfit. He'd been itching the past few weeks to put on a comfortable pair of jeans and t-shirt, but they were just too cumbersome to wear underwater. While he could normally go without the shirt while he was underwater, apparently Atlantean customs frowned upon being a half-naked king.

"They look happy," Mera observed, her eyes squinting up at the lighthouse. "In all the time I've known her, I don't think I've ever known Queen Atlanna to look so...free."

He'd been thinking the same of his father. A man so stoic, but good natured and tough looked like he'd been torn out of a dark cave into the sunlight for the first time in decades.

Arthur held out a hand to Mera, and he led them both up the winding staircase up to meet his parents. It occurred to him that he'd never done this before—bring a girl home. He should be nervous, and terrified. For one, the girl was an Xebel _warrior._ But her grip on his tightened, and he relaxed under the pressure.

"I hear you're a king now!" His father called to him when they were within earshot.

"Depends on who you ask," Arthur yelled back, pulling his father in for a hug. When he pulled away, he could tell that his wet outfit had left traces of water on his father's shirt. He humphed, pointing to the wet spots. "Usually don't have to worry about that."

"It's because you finally graced your parents fully clothed," his father laughed boisterously. "Even if you are a little...shiny."

Arthur heard Mera snort at that. He turned around to look at her, a retort waiting on his tongue, but she was already arm and arm with his mother. He was sure that if he said what he was thinking, his mother might scold him. Instead, he let the comment dry out on his tongue and he kissed his mother on top of the head in greeting.

"You look good, Mom."

Atlanna reached forward to grab his hand with her free one, squeezing it twice. "Thank you, Arthur."

"Well, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to change out of this attire. Or else I'm going to get some weird looks around town," Arthur announced.

"Yes, of course," Atlanna nodded, "Mera may borrow something of mine to wear as well."

Mera straightened her stance next to his mom. "That's very kind, My Queen."

"Please darling, call me Atlanna." And with that, his mother had commandeered his date into showing her the house.

"Alright, then," Arthur backed up, "guess I'll go change while the two of them...talk."

His father shook his head in wonderment as well, both of them not used to so many women around their home. They seemed to both come to the conclusion that it was best to let them do their thing and not interfere.

Arthur followed his father inside, splitting up in the living space so that Arthur could head to his room to change. It'd been a few months since he'd been in his room, and to be honest, he wasn't sure in what state he'd left it in. He hadn't been expecting to leave so suddenly last time, and he highly doubted his dad had ventured inside to pick anything up.

The walls were white and barren except for a few choice photos. There was a small landscape of the ocean hitting the shoreline that his parents had put up in his room when he was a toddler, and he hadn't ever gotten around to taking it down. There were a few of the first articles by a local newspaper on his desk naming him "Aquaman," sitting next to the few books he could find about Atlantis. Those, too, had been in his room for at least a decade. Back when he was still training with Vulko, he'd taken it upon himself to learn as much as he could about the world his mother lived in. Most of it was hogwash, but it made him feel closer to her. Made him feel like he was doing _something._ That was before he found out his mother was executed in the Trench. Before he took up the vigilante mantle to avenge her death in the best way he could think of: by keeping the ocean safe for humans. Before he knew it, Aquaman was born.

He picked up the newest and cleanest pair of jeans he had and a simple henley top, quickly shedding his kingly attire and pulling on the comfortable clothes he knew so well. It wasn't much, but he felt his stress alleviate with the simple change. He left his trident standing up against the wall next to his window. He really didn't want to bring it out with him and Mera, and he knew his mother would be just as good a protector of it as he was.

When he left his room, his mom was showing Mera around the insides of the house while his father leaned on a counter in the kitchen. Arthur reached inside the fridge to pull out a beer—the same type his dad was already sipping on—and took up residence leaning on the counter next to him. They'd only had each other for so long, that it was a pleasant change to see how his mom already had some influence on the house. It looked cozier and more homely than Arthur ever remembered it being. They stood there in silence for several minutes, both of them mulling over the changes in their minds.

"It's in the Curry blood for the men to fall in love with powerful women," his father nodded towards where Atlanna was busying herself with finding Mera an acceptable outfit to wear on their night out.

Arthur tried to swallow his grin, but dammit, he didn't want to. "She could definitely take me down if she wanted to; and she'd look hot while doing it."

His father rumbled with laughter. "I know how that feels. If it weren't for Atlanna, you and I would both be toast ten times over." His dad shifted closer to him, lowering his voice. "Is this kind of trait in all of Atlantean women or did we just get lucky?"

Arthur choked on his beer, coughing into his hand.

"What are you two talking about?"

Arthur recovered himself enough to find his mother standing in the doorway looking accusingly at both of them. She had sent Mera off to change in his old room, and Arthur felt a little self conscious about what Mera would think about his bedroom. He'd left a few stray object around his room, but otherwise it was clean.

Arthur's dad quickly covered, "we're just admiring you."

"Right," she replied, unconvinced. Turning to Arthur with that no-nonsense tone that left no room for questions, she told him, "Mera's in your old room. I told her I'd send you to her in a few minutes."

Arthur almost choked on his beer again, at his father shot Atlanna a disbelieving look at the implications her words carried. She caught the look, her head bobbing back as if confused.

Arthur slapped his dad on the back before untangling himself from the triangle that he created with his parents. "I'm gonna let you explain that one, pops." He moved towards the door of the kitchen. With a quick smile he boasted, "there's a beautiful girl in my room I must get to."

Tom Curry looked stricken, his fatherly instincts kicking in as his eyes flew between Arthur and Atlanna. Arthur chuckled as left his parents and made the trek to his room.

His room faced East, towards the rising sun that often woke him up before any alarm had a chance to. He had a nice view of the bay, which from the quick look he'd taken as he and Mera walked up to the lighthouse, was still in rebuilding mode. Water damage wasn't cheap or easy to fix. He'd considered sending some Atlantean soldiers up to help with the cleanup, but both Mera and Vulko thought it might hurt relations more than it would help. Apparently a lot of humans were afraid of Atlanteans. It was justified, sure, but unfortunately they couldn't put a sign above Atlantis that said 'under new management!' Instead, they had funneled some money into relief efforts anonymously. It still didn't feel like enough, though. He was a man of action. He wanted to be _doing_ something.

Mera had left Arthur's door cracked, so he rapped his knuckles on it softly before he pushed the door open. Mera stood barefooted next to his window, examining a large conch shell that Arthur had kept on his windowsill since he was a kid. She had on a white babydoll dress that fell from her shoulders all the way to her knees. Her feet were still bare, her drying hair pulled over one shoulder. In the window, she was illuminated by the setting sun, making her glow in such a way that the vision before him could've knocked him over.

Arthur came up behind her, looming over her bare shoulder to watch her turn the shell this way and that, assumedly looking for the animal that often occupied the shell.

"My father and I found it on the beach when I was five. He held it up to my ear, telling me how you can hear the ocean through it," Arthur demonstrated, taking the shell carefully from her hands and placing it next to her ear. She jumped slightly at the sound, and her hands came up to cover his as she leaned into the sound. "I held onto the shell, holding it to my ear for hours, hoping to get a glimpse of my mother's voice. She was, after all, a part of the ocean."

He felt Mera lean into him, and he continued. "I would fall asleep with this shell next to my ear. Finally my father figured out what I was doing, and told me all about who my mother really was and where she was from. I keep this to remember."

"Arthur," she spun around, sympathy lacing her tone. But he cut her off with a shake of his head and a simple kiss to the bare strip of skin that showed on her shoulder. He didn't want her to respond. He just wanted to share it with her. A glimpse of his past. He slowly removed the shell from her ear, setting it down where it had always stood guard in front of his window. He replaced the shell with his hands, cradling her small face in his large hands.

"I don't regret anything. It led my parents back together, it led me to my destiny as King, and it led me to you."

Mera's eyes shone as she reached up press her lips against his. Her arms wrapped around his middle, his hands gently stroking her cheeks and jaw, as he surrendered to her kiss. Like the strike of a match, he felt his body alight in flames at her touch. Her soft lips pressing insistently to his, her hands grabbing the back of his shirt. He felt every part where their bodies touched, and it was as if she were melting into him. Her soft curves and his hard lines mixed together until he didn't know where he stopped and she began. Lines blurred and he wanted _more_. More of her, more of these kisses.

They definitely didn't do this enough.

Of course, they couldn't do this all the time. Council meetings would get a little weird if they did. But dammit, they didn't have enough time together, just the two of them. He was king, dammit, and he made the rules.

He pulled back just far enough to speak on her lips. "I'm going to sign a law that says we have to do this everyday. Twice a day, actually."

He felt how her lips quirked up. "Only twice?"

"Oh," he growled, winding his arms around her waist so that he could pick her up. Her legs automatically wrapped around his middle like a vine. At this new height difference, she lingered over him, her bright hair cascading around them like a curtain of silk. She lowered her lips down to his again, holding his head at exactly the right position for her access.

Blindly, he moved in the direction of where he instinctively knew his bed was, lowering himself down to sit on the edge. As he sunk down onto the mattress, Mera shifted her position to neatly sit on his lap, a leg on either side of his.

They were now at the same level, and as Arthur took control of the kiss, he gently nibbled on her bottom lip, gently caressing her mouth with his. She sighed into his mouth, and Arthur took that as a sign to continue his sweet kisses, leading him from her lips to her cheeks, eyelids, ear. He could spend hours just kissing her face, lavishing her with all the attention she deserves.

She moaned when he hit a particular spot underneath her ear, and his answering groan was enough to cause Mera to pull her body impossibly closer to him. Her hands ran over his shoulders, down his torso, seeking skin as he lavished her throat.

"Arthur," she said, her voice becoming so low and breathy he was pretty sure he was going to lose his damn mind. Her fingertips traced over the skin between his jeans and the bottom of his shirt and he forgot his name.

"Arthur!"

That wasn't the voice he was expecting. Following the shriek, there was quick knocking at his door. He pulled his lips away from Mera's skin, resting his forehead on her shoulder and groaning.

"Arthur!" Atlanna spoke again, her knocking growing increasingly frantic. There were rumbles outside the door. Most likely his father trying to talk to Atlanna.

Mera had gone stiff in his arms. He looked up at her and recognized the steely expression that had settled on her face. She was ready for battle. She looked to the door as if a threat waited on the other side. "Is she alright?"

Arthur chuckled, imagining Mera running off to fight the unknown terror that had come over his mother. "I'm sure she just found out what we could be doing in my bedroom alone, and came to stop it."

Mera relaxed in his arms, and Arthur noted the tips of her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as she came to the same realization as Atlanna did. "Oh."

Arthur wrapped his arms around Mera's middle as he stood up, placing her on the ground gently beside him. He faced the door to his room and yelled, "we're all right, Mom. Be out in a second."

Gratefully, the knocking stopped shortly after that. He was pretty sure that his father was a big reason why Atlanna didn't barge in on them.

His eyes swung back to Mera as she patted down her dress in areas it had wrinkled. He cleared his throat, an emotion he could scarcely name clouding his thoughts. "You look amazing, by the way."

The pink was back, coloring her cheeks, and Arthur felt a thrill of pleasure run through him at the response. "It's shorter than what I'm used to wearing, but Que—Atlanna—said that it was the style for humans."

"Do you like it?"

Her lips pressed together as she considered. "It's more...loose than what I'm used to. But also more freeing. I feel like I could drift away on a sharp wind."

He held a hand out to her, and she took it without hesitation. "I won't let you drift away," he promised. "Ever."


End file.
